


Burn

by wildcatlizzie



Series: Mended Hearts [9]
Category: Chris Evans (actor) - Fandom, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Addiction, Before the relationship, Best Friends, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:35:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25485589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildcatlizzie/pseuds/wildcatlizzie
Summary: Kaitlyn ran a hand through her hair, tucking her windswept hair under the collar of her coat. How had everything gone so wrong? He had been so charming and attentive and loving in the beginning. There had been spontaneous vacations, little love notes left in the refrigerator on the carton of orange juice, and flowers sent to the hospital for her.
Relationships: Chris Evans (Actor)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Mended Hearts [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590325
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	Burn

**Author's Note:**

> A couple of things. One, please note the jump back in time. Two, this part will briefly discuss drug and alcohol abuse, as well as emotional and physical abuse. If that's something that is going to make you uncomfortable, that's totally OK. The next piece will mention what has happened to bring Kaitlyn to where she's at when we first met her in "Enchanted." This was something I needed to explore to help find her a little bit more.
> 
> "You forfeit all rights to my heart,  
> You forfeit the place in our bed,  
> You'll sleep in your office instead  
> With only the memories of when you were mine  
> I hope that you burn"
> 
> \-- Burn, Phillipa Soo

_January  
15 months_ **before** _Abby’s death_

Kaitlyn ran a hand through her hair, tucking her windswept hair under the collar of her coat. How had everything gone so wrong? He had been so charming and attentive and loving in the beginning. There had been spontaneous vacations, little love notes left in the refrigerator on the carton of orange juice, and flowers sent to the hospital for her.

_“Hey, Kate,” the unit secretary called, carrying a bouquet of roses to Kaitlyn where she was sitting and charting. “These came for you. Anyone you want to tell us about?”_

_“Ooh! Who are those from?” Meghan asked, coming up behind her to read the card over Kaitlyn’s shoulder._

_“They’re from Brad,” she explained, looking down at the card. “He’s the lawyer I’ve been seeing for the last six months.”_

_“Well, he seems like a keeper,” Meghan chimed in, giving Kaitlyn’s shoulder a squeeze before walking away._

_Kaitlyn looked up at the secretary with a sad smile. “I actually hate roses,” Kaitlyn admitted, chewing on her lower lip nervously. “It’s the thought that counts, though, right?”_

_“Exactly,” she replied, not nearly as excited as she had been when she brought over the bouquet. “What does the card say?”_

_“‘Kate, I can’t wait for this weekend. I’m looking forward to --’ That’s it!” she cut off, blushing profusely and clutching the card to her chest so no one else could read it. “Oh god, Meghan did you read all of that?” she shouted down the hall after her charge nurse. Meghan just waved a hand in the air without turning around._

_“It’s good to see you happy,” the secretary told her, “you deserve it,” she smiled and winked at Kate before turning and walking back toward her desk._

_“Thanks, Colleen,” Kaitlyn called after her before turning back to her computer._

That had been their last good weekend. It had been a beautiful weekend in Palm Springs. Seventy-two hours of no phones, no internet, good food, spa treatments, and amazing sex. A year and a half later, and this is where they were; her making attempts at calming him down, and her rational behavior just aggravating him even more.

Kaitlyn pulled her jacket tighter around her against the chilly January air. They’d had another fight. She’d stormed out of the house, pulling Maximus along with her. The fights were becoming more explosive and more damaging to her self esteem. He was getting more violent, too; he was beginning to hit her hard enough to leave bruises.

She’d made it several blocks before the tears started as she replayed the fight in her mind.

_“You’re a good for nothing, bitch, you know that?” he screamed in her face. Empty bottles of beer and whisky littered the table, a syringe filled with god knows what lay among them._

_“This isn’t you,” Kaitlyn replied calmly, refusing to let the tears that burned behind her eyes fall. “You’re drunk, and high, apparently.”_

_“You know nothing about me,” he shouted back, stepping further into her personal space. “You think because you’re some hot shot CVICU nurse that you know something about anything?”_

_Kaitlyn sighed and closed her eyes, rubbing at her temples in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure. “I don’t want to fight with you, Brad. I want to help you,” she pleaded with him. “Please, let me help you, let_ someone _help you. If not me, anyone,” Kaitlyn was starting to get exasperated. “Please, just get some help.”_

_“Fuck off,” he snapped, smacking her so hard across the face that she was physically moved from where she stood. She turned away from him and bent slightly at the waist, her dark hair falling in front of her eyes from the force of the hit._

_Kaitlyn gaped at him, holding a hand to her cheek. “Get the fuck out,” she seethed, straightening back up and facing him again. “You and all your shit need to be gone by the time I get back. I’m done.”_

_“You’ve been saying that for a year,” he sneered. “You’ll come crawling back, you always do.”_

She’d stormed out then. She had no idea what she would do if he was still there when she decided to go back home. Without realizing where she was going, she found herself at Amanda’s door, her breaths coming in short gasps as the adrenaline dissipated and the reality of everything began to sink in.

When Amanda opened the door, several emotions passed quickly over her face. First, it was concern that her best friend was at her door having a panic attack, but it quickly changed to anger. “What did that fuckwad do now?” 

Amanda had never been Brad’s biggest fan, even when they had been at their best as a couple. However, Amanda had noticed the subtle changes in her friend long before Kaitlyn had even realized the changes were happening. Amanda had noticed about six months into Kaitlyn’s relationship with Brad that she’d become more withdrawn and moodier. They didn’t hang out as frequently and Kaitlyn found excuses to avoid her phone calls and not let Amanda in when she dropped by unexpectedly.

The only response Amanda got to her question was choking, body wracking sobs from Kaitlyn. She’d dropped Maximus’s leash before covering her face with her hands.

“Alright,” Amanda said softly, wrapping her arms around her friend and pulling her close. “It’s alright. Come in, Max already is.” Amanda guided Kaitlyn in through the door and over to the couch. “Sit,” she commanded, handing Kaitlyn a nearby box of Kleenex and wrapping the blanket that she had just been curled up in around Kaitlyn’s shoulders.

Kaitlyn shrugged out of her coat, tossed it to the side, and sat back into the couch cushions before blowing her nose while Amanda walked into the kitchen. Her sobs had stuttered to a stop when Enzo, Amanda’s Golden Retriever, jumped up onto the couch and laid his muzzle on Kaitlyn’s thigh, offering the quiet support only a dog could. Amanda walked back into the living room, wordlessly handing Kaitlyn a tumbler of bourbon and a spoon, opening a pint of ice cream before shooing Enzo off the couch and taking his place.

“You wanna talk about it?” she asked, handing over the mint chocolate chip. 

Kaitlyn shook her head, downing the single shot of bourbon in one gulp. “More,” was her only comment, handing the glass tumbler back to her friend.

Amanda sighed and stood up, walking into the kitchen and returning with the bottle of Maker’s Mark in-hand. This time, she poured her friend a double, which Kaitlyn immediately downed again.

“More,” Kaitlyn commanded again, holding out her glass.

“Ice cream first,” Amanda countered, taking away the tumbler and replacing it with the carton of ice cream. “I need you to keep your liver. Plus, I don’t need you puking all over the place.”

“He cheated on me,” Kaitlyn admitted, placing a spoonful of the ice cream in her mouth. She looked down at the ice cream carton in her hands rather than looking at her friend.

“Is that what happened? Is that why you walked here in tears?” Amanda asked, sitting on the edge of the couch, ducking her head to try to look her friend in the eyes. “I’ll kill him.”

“No, it wasn’t today,” Kaitlyn corrected, shaking her head. “It was a couple of months ago.”

_There were many perks to being a nurse. You only work three days a week, you have a lot of control over which days you work, and then there were the rare days where the patient census was so low, you could be sent home early. After downgrading both of her patients to lower levels of care, management had made the decision to send Kaitlyn home just after noon._

_Kaitlyn knew Brad was spending the day working from home prepping for a trial that he had in the coming weeks. She was excited to surprise him; they’d both been working hard and the long hours that came with it which usually meant her out the door before sunrise and him home well after she’d gone to bed. On her way home, she stopped and picked up a couple of bottles of wine and a pizza from one of his favorite local spots._

_“Guess who gets the afternoon off?” she called as she walked into her home, closing the door behind her with her foot. “I got your favorite pizza.”_

_“Kate?” Brad asked, his head and bare shoulders popping up above the back of the couch. “What are you doing here?”_

_“I got sent home early,” she said slowly, walking toward the couch cautiously. “Low census. What’s going on?”_

_A blonde head peaked over the back of the couch, her shoulders also bare; a pillow pressed over her chest. She was one of the paralegals who worked in his office._

_“What the fuck?” Kaitlyn asked softly, her bag dropping to the floor from her hand._

_“Kate, it’s not what it looks like,” Brad began to scramble, quickly pulling his boxers back on, and coming around the couch to face her._

_“The tent you’re pitching suggests that it is_ exactly _what it looks like,” Kaitlyn replied calmly. All she wanted to do was scream, but she knew that would get her nowhere. She felt like the floor had opened up out from under her, throwing her into an abyss that was threatening to swallow her whole._

_“Let me explain,” he tried again, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder. She jerked away from him, glaring daggers in his direction._

_“You need to leave,” she said, pointing at the blonde who had begun putting her clothes back on. “And you, you’re going to sleep on the couch in your office,” she demanded, finally looking Brad in the eye._

“Shit, Kate,” Amanda said, pouring a shot for herself and downing it. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Kaitlyn shrugged, continuing to dig around in the ice cream with her spoon. “I was embarrassed,” she confessed quietly, finally looking over to her friend out of the corner of her eyes. 

“I’ll still kill him if you need me to,” Amanda offered again. “A conveniently placed air embolus and no one would ever know.” She mimed injecting something into her carotid before crossing her eyes and falling over into Kaitlyn’s shoulder.

“It won’t even have to be conveniently placed,” Kaitlyn laughed morosely, spooning more ice cream into her mouth. “He’s shooting something. Heroin, meth, who the fuck knows? How could I be so stupid?”

“One, you’re not stupid,” she said, wrapping an arm around Kaitlyn’s shoulders and pulling her close. “Two, we’ll come back to that drug bombshell in a minute. Three, fuck him. Not literally, but you know what I mean.”

“How do I just cut him out of my life?” Kaitlyn asked, lowering her head to Amanda’s lap as she started to cry again. “We’ve been together for two years. Two years of my life just -- poof -- gone.” She sniffled loudly, reaching over to grab another handful of Kleenex.

“Oh, sweetie,” Amanda said sadly, stroking Kaitlyn’s hair away from her face. “I never said it would be easy.”

“I tried once,” Kaitlyn told her, clumsily reaching for the bottle of bourbon that was on the coffee table in front of her.

“You’ve had three already, that’s enough on an empty stomach,” Amanda told her, reaching out and smacking Kaitlyn’s hand away. “Tried what?”

“Breaking up with him,” she explained, pouting when she was told she couldn’t have another drink.

_Brad stumbled in through the front door of Kaitlyn’s home. His shirt was rumpled and his tie was crooked._

_“Brad?” Kaitlyn called sleepily from where she had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for him to come home._

_“Hey!” he greeted more exuberantly than necessary. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”_

_“Are you drunk?” she asked incredulously, getting up from the couch. “Please tell me you at least had the sense to not drive.”_

_“Kate, I’m fine,” he brushed her off, setting down his briefcase and undoing his tie. “Nothing happened.”_

_“Of all the stupid, reckless shit you’ve done,” Kaitlyn cried, throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation._

_“Oh, come on,” he argued, his voice rising in volume. “I’m fine, no one died. You’re acting like I actually killed someone.”_

_“You could have!” she shouted._

_“Stop being such a nag,” he screamed back, stalking off toward the bedroom. “It’s been a long day, I’m going to bed.”_

_“I can’t do this anymore, Brad,” she called after him, staring after him with her hands on her hips. “I can’t be up half the night worrying about you. Get your shit together or we're through.”_

_“You wouldn’t dare, you stupid bitch,” he growled, stalking back toward her. “You need me.”_

_Kaitlyn gasped, shocked at his words. “You’re drunk,” she replied calmly. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.”_

“I should have ended it then,” Kaitlyn muttered, sitting back up, still facing Amanda and leaning her head against the back of the couch.

“Why didn’t you?” Amanda asked, mirroring Kaitlyn’s position.

“The emotional abuse had been going on for awhile by then,” Kaitlyn admitted, closing her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see the pity on her friend’s face. “I didn’t think I deserved any better.”

“We’ll talk about what bullshit that is later,” she said, rubbing circles on her friend’s knee. “Do you need to stay here tonight?”

Kaitlyn nodded, scooting down so that her head rested against the arm of the couch. “Too much bourbon, too fast,” she told her, her eyes drifting back open and staring straight ahead. “I’m also not sure if he took my order to get out seriously, or if he’ll even remember it.”

“Do you want some real food to absorb all that booze?” Amanda asked, standing up and walking back into the kitchen to grab her phone.

“Pizza?” Kaitlyn suggested when Amanda came back into the living room armed with her cell phone.

“Rosati’s sounds like a plan,” Amanda agreed, pulling up the restaurant information on her phone.

“Extra ranch, please,” Kaitlyn commented, reaching for the TV remote. “Disney or serial killer shows?”

“You’re the one who needs a distraction,” she replied, turning away from the TV to place their order.

“ _Criminal Minds_ it is then,” Kaitlyn muttered, pulling up Amanda’s Netflix account. “Does this mean I can have more bourbon now?” she asked, lifting her head up from the couch to look at her friend hopefully.

\----------

Late the next afternoon, Amanda pulled into Kaitlyn’s driveway with Kaitlyn next to her in the passenger seat and Maximus in the back.

“You want me to come in with you?” Amanda asked, killing the engine and looking over at her friend. 

Kaitlyn squinted against the sunlight streaming in through the windshield even from behind the sunglasses she borrowed from Amanda. “Yes, please,” she mumbled, rubbing at her forehead. “Alcohol is stupid.”

“Well, when you down a bottle of bourbon,” Amanda started, opening the car door, “it tends to suck.” She exited the car and purposefully slammed the car door, making Kaitlyn cringe.

“I hate you,” Kaitlyn muttered, getting out of the car and letting Maximus out of the backseat.

“You love me,” Amanda reminded her, looping an arm through Kaitlyn’s, and walking with her up to the front door. “Now, come on, let’s see what kind of damage he did.”

Kaitlyn turned her key in the lock and pushed the door open. She slowly pushed the borrowed sunglasses up into her hair as if removing them would make the scene in front of her any less shocking.

“Oh my god,” Amanda muttered, slowly walking into the home and taking in the disaster that surrounded them.

The bottles that had littered the coffee table lay in shattered pieces across the living room and the coffee table and end tables were turned over; a leg or two broken off of each piece.

“Max Max, outside,” Kaitlyn commanded, pointing to the dog door. Maximus happily ran out into the backyard, away from the broken glass. Kaitlyn strided quickly over to the dog door and closed it, keeping Maximus outside. She slowly turned back around to face her destroyed living room, a hand pressed over her mouth in shock. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe he did this.”

“Kate, we need to call the police,” Amanda said, picking up a bunch of tulips that were crushed at her feet.

“No,” Kaitlyn insisted, shaking her head. “Let’s just clean up and forget about it.”

“OK,” Amanda sighed, clearly not agreeing with the plan, but going along with it anyway. She shook her head sadly, watching as Kaitlyn walked into the kitchen to retrieve a broom and dust pan. Kaitlyn silently threw the dust pan onto the floor and began sweeping the broken glass into a pile. “This is bullshit,” Amanda stated, as she picked up the large chunks of glass from the vase that the tulips had been in.

“My house being the literal definition of ‘sex, drugs, and rock and roll’?” Kaitlyn asked sardonically, planting a hand on her hip. “Yeah, it’s bullshit.”

“No, I mean not calling the cops,” Amanda replied, dropping the large pieces of glass into the garbage can. “That’s bullshit. Kate, this is scary. Do you see his key anywhere? What if he comes back and does this to you?”

Kaitlyn looked up at her friend, utter hopelessness written across her face, before she bent forward, the same uncontrollable sobs from the night before wracking her body. 

“Oh, Kate,” Amanda called, quickly making her way over to her friend and wrapping her arms around her. “I’m worried about you. He’s hit you before, if he can do this much damage to furniture, what could he do to you?” 

Amanda and Kaitlyn slowly lowered themselves to the floor, Kaitlyn clinging to her friend’s waist as she cried. Amanda rested her chin atop Kaitlyn’s head while she stroked her hair.

“Let it out,” Amanda murmured, kissing her forehead. “Let it out.”

Kaitlyn continued to sob, clinging to Amanda as if her life depended on it. “What am I supposed to do?” she wailed. 

“Shhh,” Amanda hushed, continuing to stroke her hair. “We’ll stop cleaning for right now,” she started, “we’ll call the cops, we’ll get the locks changed, and I’ll stay here tonight.”

“OK,” Kaitlyn choked out, pulling away to look up at Amanda. “Locksmith?”

“I’ll call,” Amanda assured her, nodding to solidify her point.

“Thank you,” Kaitlyn muttered, wiping away the tear streaks from her face. Kaitlyn reached out for Amanda’s hand and squeezed. “I most definitely couldn’t do this without you.”

“I’m your person,” Amanda agreed, returning Kaitlyn’s hand squeeze and standing up. “And you’re my person,” she held out a hand to help Kaitlyn back up to her feet.

The rest of the afternoon was spent taking photos of the damage for the insurance, talking to the police, cleaning (so much cleaning), getting the locks changed (the more they were able to clean, the more apparent it became that Brad had not left his key behind), and finally Chinese take out.

Take out containers were carefully lined along the couch between the two of them since Kaitlyn’s coffee table was now in pieces in the dumpster.

“I hate that I have to buy new furniture,” Kaitlyn bemoaned, struggling to get some of her broccoli beef to stay on chopsticks long enough to get into her mouth. “This is stupid, I’m getting a fork.”

“Quitter,” Amanda teased, looking over her shoulder as Kaitlyn stomped into the kitchen. “Silver lining, he left the TV alone.”

“True,” Kaitlyn agreed, returning to the couch with a fork in hand. “Chris Evans was made for HD.” She sighed wistfully, looking up at the TV with googly eyes as Steve Rogers stepped out of the capsule after receiving the super soldier serum.

“I heard a rumor that the higher ups are working on getting him in for a visit,” Amanda said, bumping her shoulder into Kaitlyn’s as she dunked an egg roll into sweet and sour sauce.

“Who’s your source?” Kaitlyn asked, scooping some steamed rice into her broccoli beef.

“One of the child life specialists,” Amanda told her, smirking and knowing that would be a strong enough source for Kaitlyn to buy into the rumor.

“Good source,” Kaitlyn agreed, picking up her wine glass from the floor and holding it up in Amanda’s direction, Amanda returning the gesture with her own wine glass. “We stay in the loop and schedule accordingly.”

“Deal,” Amanda agreed, clinking her wine glass against Kaitlyn’s. The two dissolved into giggles, leaning against each other.

Kaitlyn’s phone rang causing the two of them to quiet down a bit. “Hello?” Kaitlyn answered, her greeting still laced with humor. 

Amanda turned back to her food, listening to Kaitlyn’s side of the conversation. 

“This is she,” she informed whoever was on the other end of the line. Kaitlyn sat up suddenly, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees.

“When?” she asked, the humor in her voice replaced by distress. “OK, OK,” she responded, rubbing a hand along her face. “I -- I can be there in thirty minutes.” Kaitlyn continued staring at the blank phone screen after the phone call disconnected.

“Everything OK?” Amanda asked, looking up at Kaitlyn from the fried rice carton she had been concentrating on.

“Um,” Kaitlyn started, unsure of where to even begin. “That was — uh — that was the county coroner’s office.”

“What?” Amanda asked, setting down the take out container. 

“They want me to come in and identify a body,” she continued to explain, running a hand through her hair and standing up to pace. “It’s Brad.” 

“Oh, shit,” Amanda muttered, standing up and moving toward the door. 

Kaitlyn continued pacing, still staring at her phone.

“Kate?” Amanda called out softly, walking back toward her friend. “You OK?”

“I…” she began, standing still and finally looking up from her phone. “I’m not sure what I feel.”

“Is there no one else who can do this?” Amanda asked, taking Kaitlyn’s hand.

Kaitlyn shook her head. “His parents are dead,” she explained, looking down at their joined hands. “He has a brother in New Orleans who wants nothing to do with him. Shocker, I know. They just need me to identify him and then the county will bury him.”

“Let’s go,” Amanda said, pulling Kaitlyn in the direction of the door. “We’ll get this over with. I’ll stay with you through the whole thing if that’s what you want.”

Thirty minutes later, Amanda pulled into the parking lot of the Los Angeles County coroner’s office. The gray brick building wasn’t much to look at, the only thing decorating the exterior being the county seal.

Most people hated hospitals, but for Kaitlyn, who’d spent most of her career in the bright, shiny halls of a children’s hospital they provided hope. However, to others, hospitals usually carried bad news, and they felt cold and sterile. The chemical smells, the bare walls, and the cold linoleum floors of the coroner’s office helped her understand why people hated hospitals. She would hate them too if this was what she had to face, this feeling of desolation, every day.

The reception area was equally grim. Bright fluorescent lights reflected off the gray walls and the plexiglass that separated the young woman at the desk from the main reception area.

“My name,” Kaitlyn started, but her voice cracked. She cleared her throat and started again. “I’m Kaitlyn Molinelli, I received a phone call about coming down to identify a body.”

“Of course,” the receptionist said, standing up and pulling a file from the rack behind her. “I'll let the medical examiner know that you’re here.”

Kaitlyn looked back at Amanda, nervously running her palms up and down her thighs. A man in surgical scrubs walked through a door into the waiting area, not looking up from the file in his hands.

“Ms. Molinelli?” he asked, finally looking up from the chart at her over the rims of his glasses.

“Yes,” she said, extending her hand in his direction, awkwardly taking it back when he didn’t reach out to take it.

“Follow me,” he said, turning back through the door from which he came.

Kaitlyn reached out and took Amanda’s hand, the two of them following the medical examiner into the viewing room. 

“Wait here,” he instructed before turning and walking through another door.

“Well, he’s warm and fuzzy,” Amanda stated drily, mimicking Kaitlyn’s earlier action and rubbing her hands nervously on her thighs.

“Medical examiners don’t have to be warm and fuzzy,” Kaitlyn commented, looking forward through the glass while the coroner rolled a gurney within view. 

He flipped a switch on the wall, activating a speaker. “Ready?” he asked, gloved hands ready at the edge of the sheet that covered the body.

All Kaitlyn could do was nod in response. The medical examiner pulled back the sheet, revealing Brad’s head and shoulders.

“That’s…” Kaitlyn’s voice caught in her throat. “That’s Brad Turner,” she confirmed, a tear rolling down her cheek. “Do you…” she stopped and took a deep breath, angrily wiping at the tears that had escaped. “Do you have a cause of death?” she asked.

The medical examiner looked back down at the blasted file again. “The preliminary toxicology screen indicates heroin overdose,” he said, looking back up at the two women staring back at him.

Kaitlyn looked down and nodded once. “Is there anything else you need from me?” she asked.

“No, we just needed a positive identification to match the identification we found on the body,” he said, reaching over to cover the body again.

“Wait,” Kaitlyn called out, taking a step closer to the window. The medical examiner paused and stepped back from the gurney. Kaitlyn pressed a hand to the window, looking down at the man who had been a part of her life for the last two years. 

The man who had slowly chipped away at the woman who she fundamentally was.

“Rot in hell,” she ground out through clenched teeth, pushing herself away from the glass and turning on her heel, walking back out the door from which they entered with Amanda on her heels.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to those of you who have taken the time to read, comment, and leave kudos! It makes my world go 'round!


End file.
